


I Heard A Rumour

by Evie_adams273



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Canon Compliant, F/F, Gen, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Letters, M/M, Please Don't Hate Me, Post-Canon, Rumours, Secrets, Self Loathing, bad ideas i had, based off shit rumours, came up with this when i was at crisis point, i am: exhausted, i couldn't slander the name of yann fredericks after i met Jax, keeping secrets, mentions of lesbians, pre-scorbus, soft angst, triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evie_adams273/pseuds/Evie_adams273
Summary: The only words on the envelope, besides his address, simply stated 'read in private'. Scorpius slid his finger under the seal, leaning back into the library wall.His blood ran cold fairly soon after.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Scorpius Malfoy, Polly Chapman/Orginal Male Character(s), Polly Chapman/Rose Weasley, Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	I Heard A Rumour

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: vomiting, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, bullying, nightmares

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_This letter is being sent in regard to your family tree and investigations carried out by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Please ensure that you are reading this in private; it contains sensitive information that you may not want to be shared._

_As you may have been aware, we have been in the process of conducting investigations into your parentage and the rumours surrounding your birth. I regret to inform you that we have found sufficient evidence to support these rumours. You are Voldemort’s child._

_I would advise that you keep this information to yourself to keep yourself safe._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

Scorpius folded the letter over as he finished it, standing and leaning his head against the wall in an attempt to pace his breathing. He couldn’t make any sort of scene so he needed to remain calm and just think. There was more to this than the letter in front of him.

He folded it over again, putting it in his pocket before glancing up to check he was still alone. He vaguely remembered saying something about going to join Albus in the Great Hall before lessons started, but that wasn’t an option now. He wanted to throw up, but he didn’t’ feel sick. His chest was tight and his eyes were filling with tears. He just wanted to go and sit alone in bed under a blanket. But if he did that, it would make it worse. Everyone else would know something was wrong and then there would be questions. And Albus knew when he lied. Albus always knew.

The letter had said not to tell anyone, not that Scorpius would have shared the information. But even keeping it secret couldn’t change the contents of the letter. It couldn’t change the fact that one of the worst fears that had plagued his mind since October was real. It felt pathetic on his part. The only way he had comforted himself through the nights of crying himself to sleep had been an insistence about how on earth could he be Voldemort’s child? But here it was, clear as day.

Here he was, where it no longer mattered that Albus thought he was kind from the depths of his belly and to the tips of his fingers. It didn’t matter that Voldemort wasn’t supposed to be able to have a child like him. It didn’t even matter that he was the spitting image of Draco Malfoy. He was the son of Voldemort.

“Scorpius?”

Scorpius glanced up again to see James stood at the edge of the bookcase, watching him with a soft, slightly sad smile. Scorpius tried to return it, though he suspected it looked more forced than he would have liked. He went to the desk, sitting down He took his hand out of his pocket as James sat beside him.

“Are you okay?”

Yes,” Scorpius said. “Yes, I’m fine. How are you?”

“Same as always,” James shrugged.

They sat in silence for a moment, Scorpius fighting to not curl his hand into a fist and dig his nails into his palms. James was still watching him.

“Scorpius, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ve got something I need to do so…”

Scorpius stood, starting to move away. He wasn’t going to be able to meet Albus in the Great Hall. He’d apologise later. Make an excuse about having to go to a meeting. Or something. The only flaw in that plan was that it would be ridiculously easy for Albus to find out the truth. James would happily admit it. He stopped.

“Please don’t tell Albus that anything’s wrong,” he muttered. “He’s got enough on his plate.”

“So something is wrong.”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about. Just don’t tell Albus.”

“If you talk to him, he’ll be there for you. And I am too.”

“It’s nothing,” Scorpius insisted. “Honestly, it’s nothing and it’s certainly not worth worrying about. I’m fine.”

He didn’t wait for James to press him on the matter again, walking away. If he took the back stairs, he could get down to the Dungeons without encountering too many people. That would make the day slightly easier. The excuses could come later. He just needed to be somewhere quiet before the next lesson. He needed somewhere to calm himself down. But he couldn’t miss the lesson.

When the lesson rolled around, half an hour later, Scorpius hadn’t formulated an excuse. He had spent the time sinking further into a panic about the meaning of the letter, how likely it was to be true, and if it wasn’t, who had sent it? But the more he had thought about it, the more credible it had become in his mind. He was Voldemort’s child and there was nothing he could do to change that. It had to be his secret. For the rest of his life.

Albus didn’t press him for an excuse, accepting the apology without too many questions. But it was obvious that he was concerned. It was difficult not to be anymore.

Potions passed slowly, more slowly than Scorpius felt comfortable with. He knew he had another lesson to survive afterwards. He’d go to it, despite feeling as if he wanted to be sick. He could make an actual excuses after that lesson. He could go to the Hospital Wing, or say he was going there. Which worked until he remembered that Albus would want to come with him and make sure he was okay.

Scorpius couldn’t really blame him. He couldn’t be angry when Albus was simply concerned for his friend’s wellbeing. Scorpius even debated, several times, entrusting the contents of the letter to Albus, but he kept stopping himself.

The chances were that Albus would not heed a word of it, would completely ignore it, would not care. But their entire friendship within those rumours had been built on the fact that the rumours weren’t true. They hadn’t ever considered what would happen if they were true. Scorpius couldn’t risk Albus’ reaction.

He hated that he couldn’t have more faith in Albus. He knew Albus would be fine with it. Albus would never hate him for it. But, what with there being the smallest of chances that Albus wasn’t okay with it, it wasn’t something Scorpius could risk. So he would keep his mouth shut.

The letter was still in his pocket. And that was where it stayed. Over the course of the next week, it was never not on his person and, while some of the time he was able to forget about it and carry on normally, it was never very long before he ended up reading it and spiralling again.

Albus became increasingly concerned about Scorpius, but after he had actually said something outright and Scorpius had accidentally snapped back, he laid off a little. Scorpius had apologised constantly since. Albus insisted it was okay (and that he was always there for Scorpius) but Scorpius couldn’t help still feeling that he had pissed off Albus. So telling him about the letter was now completely off the table.

Scorpius started getting restless in the night again. He tried to sleep, because he had spent so long trying to get back into a vague sleeping pattern after everything that had happened. At least he hadn’t had a nightmare. Yet.

Staying up at night also meant that he got extra work done and it didn’t matter as much when, at the tail end of the week, he started to doze in lessons again. Somehow, the news got out that he had been asked to stay behind by the Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher and had been given a detention. Scorpius had taken it without complaint.

The whispers had started to follow him after that. And James had told Albus about the library that morning he had found Scorpius. Scorpius hadn’t cared. He hadn’t had the energy. It took most of his strength to actually look vaguely interested when Albus sat down next to him on the Thursday evening after he had returned from detention.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius mumbled. “Just tired.”

“Have you been having nightmares again? You know you can wake me up if you need to.”

“I haven’t had any nightmares. I just haven’t been able to get to sleep.”

“Has something happened?” Albus looked at him carefully. “Scorpius, I know you didn’t want me to interfere but you don’t look good. Like, you look ill.”

Scorpius wanted to stand up. He wanted to say he was going to bed and then disappear behind the hangings on his bed for the rest of the night. But he’d just admitted that he hadn’t been sleeping.

“I think I’ve got a stomach bug or something,” he muttered. “Nothing serious.”

“Have you been to the Hospital Wing?”

“Haven’t thrown up. I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’ll pass soon.”

Albus nodded, though it was blindingly obvious that he did not believe what Scorpius had just told him. Scorpius didn’t have the energy to convincingly lie.

Supposedly, the idea was that he would wait a few weeks for the letter to become something that didn’t scare him anymore. Then he would burn it. Then he would carry on like nothing had happened. That was the idea. Whether it would work in practice remained to be seen.

* * *

The second letter turned up the next morning. Scorpius hadn’t been alone when it arrived, but the moment he realised the handwriting wasn’t familiar, he excused himself and hurried back to the dormitories to read it. The likelihood was that it was nothing, and it was completely unrelated. But he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk anything, not that he had ever been able to. He had formed the impression that Albus was dangerously close to making him to talk to either a teacher or Draco Malfoy.

Scorpius pulled the hangings closed around himself, muttering to himself that it was going to be completely fine and he had nothing to worry about. It would be fine. He would be fine. Completely fine.

He opened the letter.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_I know I haven’t written to you before, and you probably don’t want to hear from me, but after what I’ve just found out, I needed to write to you and I’m begging you to hear me out. I’m assuming you already know what this about, because I’m assuming the ministry would contact you about your own heritage. But anyway._

_Scorpius. I’m so, so sorry for what I did to you. If I’d had any inkling that the rumours about you were true and that you were really my little brother, I would never have hurt you like that. I might have still hurt Albus, but I’m sure you can understand that. I still have things I need to do. But I’m so sorry for using you like that._

_If I ever get out of here (believe me, I’m working on it), I’ll come and find you in person. I’ll apologise again because this doesn’t feel entirely sincere in writing, and then we can try again? I promise I won’t hurt you. You’re my little brother. I’ve always wanted a younger sibling._

_And I think Father would be proud of you._

_Lots and lots and lots of love from your big sister,_

_Delphi_

Scorpius barely made it to the bathroom before he threw up. He took the letter with him, on the off-chance that someone came back into the dormitory, and once he had finished throwing up what little he had eaten, he closed his eyes, folded the letter back up, and placed it in the same pocket as the original letter.

It wasn’t even the things about his own identity that scared him most now. It was the fact that Delphi would look for him if she ever escaped. And she was powerful. She would find him. She would find him and she hadn’t promised not to hurt Albus. Her promise to keep him unharmed meant nothing if Albus wasn’t safe first.

Scorpius collapsed onto the floor next to the toilet, flushing and leaning his head back against the wall. First lesson was off the table. He’d sit here until he either felt comfortable enough to leave, or someone came looking for him. It would probably be the latter. He wouldn’t feel safe or comfortable for a long time.

Delphi. Delphi knew. And she believed it. She had apologised for hurting him. But it didn’t mean anything because, if she had known, she would have hurt Albus instead. Scorpius had known then, and he knew now, that he would have taken the Cruciatus Curse if it meant that Albus had gotten away unharmed.

It couldn’t start again. They had come too far to be thrown back into the madness and fear and pain. There had to be a way to stay safe. But all ways to keep themselves safe involved telling someone else about the letter and that thought made him feel as if he was about to retch again, even though he had already thrown up everything.

He could just keep the whole thing a secret. No one needed to know about any of it unless Delphi actually escaped. And if that happened, well, he’d work it out when it came to it.

According to his watch, about an hour had passed before he even started to consider finding the strength to move. He’d definitely missed several lessons. Albus would be looking for him. He’d actually have to come up with a decent lie. Or maybe he could say something about the stomach bug.

Scorpius hated lying to Albus. The further he dug himself into this, the more he hated it. But he also remained with the reasoning that Albus might not stick with him and he couldn’t risk that. Because he was a coward. A complete coward.

He could just tell Albus that he’d needed to be sick and that he was ill. That would actually hold up as an excuse. He could pretend to have forgotten about the letter he had run off with. There were ways around this.

Somewhere above him, the bell rang for break, and Scorpius pulled himself to his feet, stumbling slowly to the sink and turning on the tap. He cupped some of the water, splashing it on his face as the bathroom door opened.

“Merlin,” Albus breathed. “Scorpius, are you okay? You look terrible.”

“I’m not feeling very well,” Scorpius mumbled, rinsing his mouth and spitting out the residue. “I’m probably not going to come to lessons today.”

“Do you want to go to the Hospital Wing?”

“No. It’s just a stomach bug. It’ll pass.”

“I can stay with you, if you want.”

“I’ll be fine, Albus,” Scorpius turned off the tap and walked through to the dormitory. “You can go back to lessons – or break – or whatever. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll come back at lunch?”

Scorpius shrugged, settling on his bed again. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, but there wasn’t another option. Albus had things to do, and Scorpius couldn’t answer his questions.

* * *

Scorpius didn’t eat for the rest of the day. He didn’t leave the dormitory. He assumed that Albus would pass on to the teachers that he was ill. Around the time that Albus normally finished dinner, Scorpius lay down and drew his hangings, trying to make it look as if he was asleep.

Miraculously, he did slip off quicker than he expected to. A day of exhaustion and not eating seemed to have done something to help his lack of sleep. He didn’t sleep well. He had dreams. Bad dreams. But he was so exhausted that he couldn’t pull himself out of them.

There were moments where he couldn’t tell if they were his nightmares or if they were real. Because Delphi was there and they were on the Quidditch Pitch, but Delphi wasn’t hurting him: she was hurting Albus. She was hurting Albus and calling him her little brother and cackling as Albus screamed and Scorpius could hear himself screaming but he couldn’t get to Albus and he needed to. He _needed_ to save Albus. He needed to save his best friend from his insane sister.

Hands started appearing on his shoulders, around his neck, holding him back, choking him. So that he couldn’t save Albus. So that he couldn’t go anywhere because someone was holding back. Someone that he couldn’t see, no matter how much he fought to look.

And suddenly he was falling. Down and down and down and down until he landed on his back and appeared somewhere else. Appeared in his bed, in the dormitory with Albus sat above him, apparently having just shaken him awake.

Scorpius sat up, looking at Albus as his friend moved away from him slightly. Scorpius ran his hands through his hair, trying to make himself breathe properly. His chest felt tight and his entire body was clammy and slick with sweat.

He had to move. He had to prove to himself that it wasn’t real and that Delphi hadn’t escaped and she wasn’t coming to find him because of who they were to one another.

He stood up, looking back at Albus as his knee gave way temporarily. Albus watched him, looking terrified, but he wasn’t hurt. It had been a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Albus wasn’t injured. 

“Go back to sleep,” Scorpius muttered, steadying himself on the bed frame.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll get a sleeping draught in the morning.”

“You said they gave you headaches.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Scorpius…”

“Just – just go back to bed. I’m fine.”

Albus frowned at him, but he nodded, making his way back to his bed. He left the hangings open, though. He never did that. Scorpius did the same when he went back to bed. He didn’t want to drive Albus away. But he didn’t go back to sleep.

He did go and ask for sleeping draughts the next morning, slipping out of the dormitory as soon as it was polite to be awake. Madam Pomfrey questioned the request, but when Scorpius muttered something about nightmares, she had agreed, though not before insisting on monitoring the situation. Apparently she knew that he’d been skipping lessons.

Scorpius understood that she meant well and he appreciated it, but it also added a ton of additional pressure. He was trying to hide a secret that could, at any moment, no longer be a secret, all while trying to juggle OWLs and maintaining some sort of healthy living.

After the second letter, it seemed unlikely that this would blow over, as he had previously been assuming. This would last and he would have to ride it out. It would be okay. He had to do his best to keep the letters secret and pray that no one found out.

Both of them were still in his robe pocket. He taken to almost obsessively reading the original one. He only had the strength to leave the other because he knew laying eyes on it would make him vomit.

Scorpius did go back to lessons that day. He kept his head down and did the work because what else could he do? Days passed. He took the sleeping draughts. He put up with the headaches and vomiting they caused. He pretended that he was okay for Albus’ sake.

Another week passed before anything changed. He was walking back to the Common Room in the evening when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, stumbling slightly because his entire body felt heavy and half asleep. Someone else, now behind him, pushed him forward and walked him down a side-corridor.

“Get off,” Scorpius muttered, trying to duck away; someone else already blocked his path.

“Be quiet,” someone snapped. “We’ve got something to talk to you about.”

“You couldn’t talk in a public place?”

“We didn’t think you’d want this shared. Voldemort.”

Scorpius’ blood ran cold. He tried to get into the corridor again, but found his path blocked. They were all laughing and leering and Scorpius could feel his entire body starting to fill with tension. Everything hurt. Everything ached. He wanted to be sick. 

“I didn’t tell anyone about that,” he stared up at them. “I didn’t tell anyone about–”

“You’re not good at keeping secrets, are you?”

“It’s not real,” Scorpius started frantically searching for the letter. “It’s not real.”

“It looks real,” someone grabbed the parchment from him as he managed to pull it out of his pocket. “ _Dear Mr Malfoy_ ,” he read in a mocking voice, “Well, they got that bit wrong, didn’t they?”

“Give it back,” Scorpius made a desperate swipe for the letter, but none of his limbs wanted to obey him.

His entire body was starting to spin out of control. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. His heart was racing. And all he could think about was getting the letter back because no one else could know about this. No one else could find out. They’d kill him. Albus would abandon him. He’d be alone and it would be his fault for letting them get hold of the letter in the first place.

“We have found sufficient evidence to support these rumours,” he kept reading. “You are Voldemort’s child.”

Scorpius backed away, hitting the wall and trying to use its coolness to focus himself. But the laughter and the shouting kept growing and he couldn’t make his breathing steady. He closed his eyes as the world began to spin a little, sinking down to the floor.

“You hear that, Voldemort? You’re scum. And you’re bad at keeping secrets.”

“But at least your sister’s excited to see you,” another voice taunted. “I think you’d get on well.”

Scorpius stopped hearing after that. Everything had faded into background noise beyond the voices screaming in every corner of his mind. All screaming their insults and hatred and toxicity.

The laughter stopped a moment later, and there was another voice, but Scorpius didn’t recognise it. He barely cared. He just wanted the letter back and wanted to go home. He had to go home. Albus kept some Floo Powder in his trunk. Maybe he could get hold of that and then he could go home.

Even if it wasn’t to his dad anymore.

“Hey,” a soft voice approached him as the laughter and jeering died completely. “Can I sit next to you? I’ve not read the letter. Do you want it back?”

Scorpius half nodded, not opening his eyes. This person was a friend if they were offering to give it back. If he could believe that they hadn’t read it, then he could trust them. He felt them settle next to him, placing the parchment down between them. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Cold,” Scorpius choked out. “Something cold…”

“I’ve got my water bottle. Will that help?”

Scorpius nodded slightly, jumping as the damp metal pressed into his hands. He took it, resting it against his forehead and trying to concentrate on that. It did something to ground him, to the point where he was able to let go of it and hear Albus reading to him. That was always something that helped.

When Scorpius opened his eyes again, he was alone. He was alone with the letter. The only indication that he hadn’t just imagined an entire interaction were the retreating footsteps up the corridor. He waited a few more minutes, before pocketing the letter, pulling his hood up, and getting to his feet.

He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t stay at Hogwarts now that the secret was out. They’d kill him. The physical bullying was one thing when it was just a rumour, just an awful joke. But now that they had concrete evidence, they’d kill him.

Albus would be in the Common Room for a lot of the night. There would be at least one or two chances for him to steal some and go home. Maybe he didn’t have to come back. Maybe he could just hide until he could be sure the entire world had moved on. Which it never would.

Scorpius found Albus near the fireplace, packing up the ink bottle he had balanced between his knees. He looked up, smiling at Scorpius. Scorpius forced himself to return it as he walked over.

“I’m really tired,” he said. “I’m going to take a night off from – life. Just – just go to bed.”

“Scorpius, are you okay?” Albus stood. “You’re really pale. Are you over that stomach bug?”

“I’m just tired,” Scorpius lied. “I just need a good night’s sleep.”

“Okay,” Albus said, though he didn’t seem particularly happy. “Well, I’m heading down to the library if you need me.”

Scorpius nodded. He watched Albus go, before turning. He had to actively stop himself running to the dormitory. Once inside, he dumped his things on his bed, glancing behind himself before he opened Albus’ trunk. Albus never took the Floo Powder out. It was a secret that he had only admitted to Scorpius.

Scorpius hated himself, in part, for stealing it from Albus. For not having the courage to be honest about what was really going on. Albus would have let him take it, even without the explanation. Albus deserved to know that he was leaving. But Scorpius knew that he was such a huge fucking coward.

He took the little packet of Floo Powder, making his way back out of the Common Room and along the corridor to the kitchens. The fireplace in there connected to the Floo Network. He could go home. If he was still welcome there.

If he wasn’t…well, he’d cross that bridge if he had to.

He tickled the appropriate pear, ignored the elves all trying to offer him their services, and made his way to the fireplace. He didn’t stop to consider any consequences and, half a moment later, he was lying on the floor of Malfoy Manor, a great pain swelling where he had hit his head.

He sat up, gazing around as if he hadn’t lived there his entire life. This didn’t feel like home anymore. He was an intruder. He started to stand, rooting around in his pocket for any remaining powder. Coming back had been a mistake. There had to be somewhere, anywhere, else that he could go.

“Scorpius?”

Scorpius jumped as Draco Malfoy appeared at the top of the landing, arms full of books. He stood, looking at the floor and trying to make himself as small as possible.

“Scorpius, what are you doing here?” Draco hurried down the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” Scorpius started. “This was a mistake. I should go back to school. I’m really sorry.”

“Scorpius,” Draco interrupted softly, putting the books down, “look at me.”

Scorpius did so.

“What’s going on?”

Scorpius wanted to fall into Draco’s arms. He wanted to feel loved and warm and safe. But this man wasn’t his father and he couldn’t lie to either of them anymore. Not now that he knew the truth.

“I’m sorry,” Scorpius croaked again.

“Come into the kitchen,” Draco crouched down beside him.

Scorpius let Draco take his arm and help him stand. He didn’t say anything as they walked into the kitchen, settling at the table.

“Do you want some hot chocolate?”

Scorpius shook his head.

“Have you eaten dinner?”

Scorpius shook his head.

Draco didn’t sigh, though Scorpius could see the upset on his face. He didn’t object as Draco pulled two mugs out of the cupboard and set the kettle boiling. In all honesty, Scorpius knew having something sugary might do him some good. That was a connection to his mum. And it was easier to accept it than object.

He kept running his hand over the letters, his chest tightening with every passing sweep. He had to tell someone the truth. Someone would have to know now that the secret was out. All he had to do was hand over the letter. That was it. That would be explanation enough.

They’d talk about it afterwards, but he could take that as it came.

Draco sat down opposite him a couple of minutes later, sliding him the mug of hot chocolate. Scorpius wrapped his hands around it, almost hunching over the warmth.

“What’s going on, Scorpius,” Draco asked softly. “You look really unwell.”

Scorpius pulled the letters out of his pocket, passing over the first one and putting the second under his hand. He didn’t want to look at that. He didn’t have the energy to look at it.

Draco picked it up, opening it and starting to read. Scorpius could barely bring himself to look at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the changing facial expressions and, ultimately, the developing anger. Scorpius didn’t drink the hot chocolate. He felt like he was going to be sick. It was easiest to simply – to simply not move.

Draco finished, looking up. “You got this two weeks ago?”

Scorpius nodded. “And this one – this one a week ago.” He passed the second letter across the table.

“This isn’t real,” Draco said quietly as he finished reading the second one. “This is not real.”

Scorpius didn’t say anything.

“Scorpius, do you believe me?”

Scorpius swallowed. “It’s from the Ministry,” he muttered. “Albus told me – months ago – they opened that investigation.”

“Does Albus know about this?”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Scorpius croaked. “Not even Albus. But someone found out. They – they cornered me earlier. I came home. I didn’t want to get hurt.”

“That investigation was closed,” Draco said firmly. “It never even got started properly.”

Scorpius didn’t respond, digging his nails into his palms. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t cry.

Draco looked at him, studying Scorpius very carefully. Scorpius looked away, biting the inside of his cheek. The pain did something to help quell his emotions, but he couldn’t afford to let himself off the hook for even a moment.

“Come on,” Draco stood. “We’re going to the Ministry.”

“What?”

“This isn’t real, and the least they owe us is an explanation.”

Scorpius didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to go. But he didn’t really have a reason to object. He knew Draco was trying to help. And maybe it would help him. He stood up, shoving his hands into his robe pockets and following Draco to the fireplace they used for Floo travel.

He barely flinched at the horrible spinning sensation as they travelled through hundreds of fireplaces, sliding out into the Ministry Atrium at the other end. Draco waited for Scorpius to stand up and then they started to walk through the departing crowds of people.

Scorpius hated the Ministry. He hadn’t been here since Delphi’s trial, and before that, it had been coming home from Godric’s Hollow. It didn’t hold any good memories. They had all been broken that night. Broken and crying and silent.

Scorpius only half reacted to the tears trickling down his cheeks. He didn’t care. He wasn’t supposed to be here anyway. He was supposed to be at school, at the centre of this mess. Albus might be getting back to the dormitory now. He might notice that Scorpius was gone. He might not. Scorpius didn’t know.

He hadn’t been a good friend for weeks now. He had shut Albus out. If Albus wanted to move onto something else, Scorpius couldn’t and wouldn’t blame him. The irony of that being that he had kept the secret in the first place because he hadn’t wanted to lose Albus.

They stopped outside Harry Potter’s office. Draco knocked, pushing the door open when they received an answer. Harry was stood at his desk, packing things into a bag, but he stopped when he saw them.

“Draco,” he smiled. “It’s nice to see you.” He paused as he saw Scorpius. “Scorpius?”

“We need to talk to you,” Draco said; he spoke quietly, his words filled with a quiet rage, though he was not unreasonable.

“Could you make an appointment for tomorrow?” Harry asked. “It’s getting late. I can definitely prioritise you tomorrow, though.”

“No,” Draco said, his tone now more steely. “This can’t wait.”

“Okay,” Harry put his bag down and turned to face them fully. “What can I help you with?”

Scorpius’ feeling of tight uncomfortableness blossomed, at that precise moment, into a full-scale sensation of being on the verge of vomiting. This was for the best. It didn’t take much to convince him of that. But, as Draco handed over the two letters, he wanted to run and hide and never look up again.

Hiding in that hole with Albus didn’t seem like such a bad option now.

Harry opened the first letter, scanning over it and thumbing the seal with particular interest.

“When did you get this, Scorpius?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“This is a hoax,” Harry said softly. “This isn’t my handwriting. This isn’t my signature. There is no investigation into – that. I attempted to open one, but it never started, and I shut it down. This is not Ministry correspondence of any form.”

Scorpius took a moment to process what Harry was saying, staring at him blankly. When the full gravitas of what had been said hit him, he stumbled back a step or two, letting out weeks’ worth of tension from his body.

“It’s not real,” Scorpius looked at his dad. “So…so the second letter?”

It took a moment for Harry to read the letter. His expression took a similar journey to Scorpius’ dad had.

“I am so sorry, Scorpius,” he said quietly. “This is a horrific thing that someone has done. This isn’t real.”

“She doesn’t know?”

“She doesn’t have any way to contact you,” Harry said. “She is permitted contact with a select few in Azkaban to keep her stable. She has no contact with anyone outside of the prison. She is not allowed to write to anyone. Any letters sent would be vetted, and she would never be allowed to write to you or Albus.”

“So,” Scorpius still felt sick, but the feeling was lifting a little now, “so the people who said they knew…”

“I suspect they were the ones behind this sickening attempt at a prank.”

“I didn’t see who it was,” Scorpius admitted. “I had a panic attack.”

“We can sort hat at a later date,” his dad said. “For now, I think we should head home and get some rest. I’ll let Professor McGonagall know where you are.”

Scorpius nodded. “Thank you.”

* * *

Albus glanced over at Scorpius’ bed when he woke up. Scorpius had already been asleep when he’d come to the dorm, hangings closed, so Albus hadn’t bothered him, but now he couldn’t help but be concerned.

Scorpius always woke up first. Scorpius always woke him up moving around in the early hours. Even recently, during his period of distance, Scorpius had still maintained that part of his routine. But now, his bed looked untouched.

Albus sat up, glancing over at one of the other boys in the dorm and accidentally making eye contact. 

“Have you seen Scorpius?” Albus asked quietly. 

“I saw him leave the dorm last night,” the boy answered. “Around seven or eight?”

Albus backtracked in his mind as to where he had been at that point. The library. Scorpius had said he was going to bed. But now?

Albus stood, making his way to Scorpius’ bed and murmuring Scorpius’ name a few times before he opened the curtain. To an empty bed.

“Fuck,” Albus muttered. “Fuck.”

“Do you know where he’s gone?”

“There can’t be that many places,” Albus muttered. “If he left school site…I don’t know.”

“He was holding something when I saw him. Like a little packet of something.”

“Shit,” Albus pulled his trunk out from underneath his bed and dug through it for the little packet of Floo Powder he had packed. He was rather unsurprised when he couldn’t find it. “Well, he’s definitely not at school,” he sighed. “Shit. Shitting hell. I’ve got to tell McGonagall.”

“Good luck.”

Albus nodded a thank you and pulled on some clothes as quickly as he could. He grabbed a hoodie and threw it on, before hurrying out through the Common Room and almost running up the staircases against the tides of oncoming students.

He knocked on Professor McGonagall’s office door, gasping for breath as a result of having run the last section. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, so he shoved them in his pockets, closing his eyes and visualising a breathing exercise he had seen a while ago. Weird moving picture pattern. They were becoming more popular in wizarding circles.

Albus pushed the door open when instructed to, forcing himself not to launch into an immediate fear-fuelled spiel.

“Scorpius has gone home,” Professor McGonagall said, upon taking one look at him. 

“What?”

“His father owled me last night. He’s gone home. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

“He’s been distant for a couple of weeks. He hasn’t told me anything but I know something’s wrong.”

“Yes,” McGonagall mused. “Well, I think Scorpius will be taking a few days to recover.”

“What happened?” Albus asked. “What happened to him?”

“Do you know how he got home?”

“I brought some Floo Powder with me,” Albus admitted, seeing no reason to lie. “Enough for one journey. For me to get home if I needed to. I told him months ago. I guess he – he stole it.”

He waited for a reprimand, for a stern reminder that he had broken at least one rule, but it didn’t come. 

“Scorpius is going to be okay,” McGonagall said softly. “There’s something that’s happened, and we just need a few days to sort it out.”

“What happened?” Albus asked again, his curiosity starting to burn out and be replaced by fearful anger.

Something had happened. Something bad. Scorpius had spent four years putting up with the abuse and hatred. He never left. He never ran away. Now that he had, it meant that he had been truly scared. Albus almost didn’t to know what had happened to drive Scorpius to that point.

McGonagall was about to answer when the office door opened again and Polly Chapman hurried into the room.

“Miss Chapman,” McGonagall scowled. “I believe that you’re required to knock and wait outside.”

“You were talking about Scorpius,” Polly said. “Which is what I came about. I’m sorry – I know I should have waited but–”

“Do you know what happened?” Albus looked at her, breathing out slowly when she nodded.

“Fine,” McGonagall sighed. “Explain, because I only have half of the story.”

Polly hesitated for a moment, taking her hands out of her pockets and digging her nails into her palms. Albus didn’t feel much sympathy. All that occurred to him was the fact that his blood was boiling.

“My – my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend,” Polly started slowly, “thought it would be funny – funny to play a long prank on Scorpius.”

“Yann?” 

“No,” Polly shook her hand. “Yann and I broke up and we agreed to spend some time away from each other. But it wouldn’t have been them. Since – since Craig, they’ve tried to – we’ve tried to – leave you guys alone.”

“Stop stalling,” Albus half-snapped. “What did you ‘soon-to-be ex-boyfriend’ do?”

“He thought it would be funny to forge a letter from your dad,” Polly murmured, “saying that the rumours were true.”

Albus stopped fighting the feeling of his blood boiling. He wanted to hit something. Not Polly. He was grateful she was actually explaining it. But her boyfriend. Her fucking boyfriend.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how someone could terrorise another human being in that way and think it was humorous. Albus dug his nails into the palm of his hand, looking at Polly. She didn’t meet his gaze, staring awkwardly at the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I – I know saying sorry doesn’t do anything. I did try to stop them and I know that doesn’t make any of this better but…” she trailed off.

“There was a second letter,” Albus said. “A week ago. I don’t know what you said to him but he was sick after you sent that to him.”

“I tried to stop them sending this one,” Polly muttered. “It was – it was forged from – from Craig’s killer.”

Albus flinched in pain as he drove his nails further into his palm. It made sense, but it made him want to hit something, hit anything. His entire body was still, quiet, but the simmering rage kept heating up and he didn’t want to do anything to stop it.

That group would have no idea how much work they’d undone. They’d have no idea how much damage they’d done in anyone’s process of recovery. Albus wanted to scream. He wanted to scream at them and tell them exactly what had fucking happened to fuck him and Scorpius up so much, and then maybe, they’d leave well enough alone. Not that it was well enough anymore.

His train of thought was interrupted when Polly continued speaking.

“They cornered him yesterday. Implied they knew when he hadn’t told anyone. He had a panic attack.”

“And then he left,” Albus thought back to how pale and shaken Scorpius had looked the last time he had seen him.

“Miss Chapman,” McGonagall’s tone was surprisingly quiet, “I hope you understand the seriousness of what you’ve done.”

“I do, professor,” Polly nodded. “I – I’m sorry.”

“However, I’m grateful you’ve come to actually admit this to me,” McGonagall continued. “If you could bring everyone else responsible in any way up here after breakfast, I will finish discussing this then. In the meantime, I’m giving you a week’s detention as your morality seems to be in the right place. Just about.”

Polly nodded. “Thank you, professor. I’ll bring everyone up as soon as I can.”

She turned to leave and Albus breathed out slowly. The anger hadn’t passed, but it was being joined by an odd numbness. A feeling of not really knowing what to do with himself. 

“Albus,” McGonagall said softly when the door was closed again, “if you get permission from your family, and Scorpius and Draco were okay with it, I’m sure you could go and see Scorpius at some point.”

“Thank you,” Albus said. “I – I should go. Stuff to do.”

McGonagall nodded, smiling, as Albus turned away and left the office. He needed to go for a walk, clear his head. His homework could wait until later.

He stopped outside the office as he saw Polly stood in the corridor, apparently waiting for something. She started to approach him as he walked away. He stopped.

“What do you want?” he said, not snapping but not being patient. 

“To apologise,” Polly said quietly. “And I know those words don’t do a lot, but after everything I’ve done, and after this, I need to say I’m sorry. I fucked up. And if there’s anything I can do to try and mend this, I’d like to.”

Albus didn’t say anything.

“Not that I’m asking to be friends if you don’t want to be. But – I hope we could be on speaking terms?”

“Is that a sentiment echoed by your entire group of friends?”

“I think so, and since you’ve said something, I should say this as well. I spoke to them earlier – just gave them the basics of what happened – that Scorpius is at home. We were wondering if you wanted to sit with us in the library? And at mealtimes. If you wanted to.”

Albus looked at Polly, trying to make some sense of it. She seemed genuine in her proposal, but it wasn’t simply a thing to trust. This was Polly Chapman. Who had happily bullied them for multiple years. Who had mocked their disappearance, until the details had emerged, whereupon she’d become strangely quiet strangely quickly.

But this was Polly Chapman who had tried to change; at least that was how it appeared. This was Polly Chapman, who had just come and admitted to something that had brought her punishment.

“How do you know Scorpius had a panic attack?” Albus asked.

“I was there. If I’d tried to stop them, they would have probably beaten me up. I was scared. So I came and tried to calm him down once they were gone. I’m sorry I didn’t intervene.”

“Thank you for trying,” Albus said. “If – if you guys are happy to have me around, I might come sit with you.”

“It’s your decision,” Polly nodded. “When Scorpius gets back, if he’s happy to talk to us, I’d like to apologise to him too. The others want to apologise to you both.”

“Okay. Personally, I’m not in a place to forgive. Not yet. But thank you for – for apologising. And admitting what happened.”

“It was the right thing to do. I was a bitch. The apology was overdue. Especially after Craig.”

“How were you guys after his death?” Albus asked quietly.

“It was bad,” Polly looked at him. “It still is. They – they didn’t tell us anything about what happened. Nothing more than what everyone else knew.”

“Shit,” Albus breathed. “That’s so bad. I’m sorry.”

Polly nodded, shrugging and biting her lip.

“If you guys wanted to talk about it,” Albus offered, unsure of where he was going with it.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“It might take a few days.”

“That’s okay. Come sit with us if you want to. You don’t have to. I’ll see you around?”

Albus nodded.

* * *

Over the course of the next few days, several things happened. The other people who had been involved in the ‘prank’ had lost a ton of house points, as well as getting six weeks of detention each. Polly’s boyfriend had publicly broken up with her in the Great Hall, while also attempting to slut-shame her. Which didn’t work because, as it turned out, Yann and Karl did not take kindly to someone trying to hurt their friend. Albus sat with Polly’s group at least once a day, and they’d talked things out. Properly.

When Scorpius had come back to school, albeit cautiously, Polly’s group had apologised again, something which Scorpius had accepted in his own quiet way.

The first night Scorpius had been back, he had been incredibly apologetic and timid about everything that had happened. Albus had sat him down and told him that it was okay and that he understood. They had talked it through. And now they were all but back to normal.

Now, they were all sat in the library, working through the sheer mountains of homework they’d been given. It was a lot, but tonight was a night where everyone was laying back a little. It was a Friday.

Albus looked up from his Potions essay to see Rose hovering a few feet away, several books in her arms. She caught his eye, looking away again. Albus put his quill down and excused himself. Rose retreated behind a shelf. Albus followed her, catching her when they were out of sight and earshot of the table.

“Are you okay?” Albus frowned.

“Do you think they’d be okay with me sitting with you guys?” Rose bit her lip.

“Yeah, of course,” Albus said. “Rose, seriously, are you okay? You’re being really weird.”

“It’s Polly.”

“Has she said something to you?”

“No!” Rose blurted. “No. Just. She’s – I – I like her?”

Albus paused, before smiling at Rose. He pulled her into a hug, ignoring the books sticking into his side. Rose laughed nervously and Albus looked at her again.

“Polly’s single,” he raised his eyebrows. “And I’d say you’ve got a very good shot.”

Rose shook her head, laughing, and Albus took her hand, dragging her back over to the table. She sat down next to him and Scorpius, looking awkwardly away from everyone as Albus introduced. No one had an issue with her being there, and she had been there for about half an hour when she struck up tentative conversation with Polly.

Albus glanced at Scorpius, smiling and at him and taking his hand under the table. Scorpius interlinked their fingers, rubbing his thumb along Albus’ knuckles.

**Author's Note:**

> So I actually came up with this months and months ago. This was in draft back when I was moving out and in a state of constant panic etc. It's had some changes (for example Yann was originally the arsehole character but I couldn't really do that after I'd met Jax). But yeah - I was ridiculously anxious when this was formulated, and it's been delayed in writing because of pretty much the same reasons.  
> -  
> Black Lives Matter.  
> Black Trans Lives Matter.  
> Fuck JKR  
> -  
> Thanks for reading  
> Kudos and comments much appreciated  
> Twitter: @evie_adams273


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